


An Orgy of Enemies

by CAW



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Depression, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fear!Virgil Sanders, Fusions, Gaslighting, Grinding, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Incest, Internalized Homophobia, Intrusive Thoughts, Its basically the Split™ and thats it, M/M, MCD but not really, Magic, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, OC Sides, Panic Attacks, Paranoia!Virgil Sanders, Poisoning, Polyamory, Pre-accepting anxiety, Pretty mush everyone's unsympathetic at some point, Rough Kissing, Shapeshifting, Songfic, Tentacle Sex, This list will be updated as needed...., Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unsympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Unsympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Victim Blaming, physical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAW/pseuds/CAW
Summary: There had only been three sides that had any influence over Thomas when he was a kid... Creativity, Morality, and Deception. For a really long time, things were great within the Mindscape. Creativity could create whatever he wanted, Morality could make sure Thomas told the truth and did the right thing, and Deception could keep Thomas safe without question. That all changed when Logic appeared within the Mindscape for the first time and Morality began to question whether Creativity's creations were actually helping or hurting Thomas...This is the story of how Creativity split in two and how that inevitably led to the destruction of the Mindscape.~ The first seven chapters are told from Janus' POV and take place before and during The Split~ The next seven chapters are told from Virgil's POV and take place before and after he was accepted by Thomas and the "Light Sides"~ The final seven chapters are told from Remus' POV and begin during The Callback Trial* The lyrics used throughout this fanfic are from the song "An Orgy of Enemies" by Angie & Zheani*
Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Romulus "King Creativity" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Romulus "King Creativity" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Romulus "King Creativity" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dukexiety, Kingceit - Relationship, Moceit, RemRom, Roceit, Royality - Relationship, Sleepxiety - Relationship, Trash Noodle, anxceit, anxceitmus - Relationship, demus - Relationship, dukeceit - Relationship, receit - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

_**If Cupid’s a fair God** _

_**Then the Devil must have heartache** _

  
  
  


In the beginning, it had only been the three of them.

Creativity.

Morality.

And Self Preservation.

In theory, Logic and Fear were there as well (along with a few other, less _kind_ , entities), but they had been only quiet voices whispering in the back of Thomas’ consciousness. Thomas had no need for analytical thinking at such a young age and fear was a foreign concept to a boy who would spend his days playing outside with his friends from sunrise to sunset. Neither of them, Logic nor Fear, appeared physically in the Mindpalace before the ages of 5 and 6 respectfully. They had no influence over their Host until Thomas turned 8 years old.

Life had been so much better before they showed up… That was, of course, only Janus’ opinion, but he had a hunch that if he had asked Morality the day after Creativity had split if he enjoyed Logic and Fear’s company, the moral side would have a harder time lying about how he did. That conversation would have promptly been followed by tears if Janus had to take a guess, given how entirely wreaked Morality had appeared when he had noticed not one, but two Creativitys standing in front of him. The poor cyan clown could be quite an emotional mess at times. But Janus had decided long ago that _if_ he had asked Morality how he was feeling and _if_ Morality had burst into tears a result, the deceptive side wouldn’t have cared. 

Well, he wouldn't have allowed himself to care… if he was being honest. Maybe deep inside he could find a sampling of sympathy, but he wouldn’t _show_ it. 

He would _never_ show it.

Never again.

But that wasn’t important.

Before Logic and Fear had appeared, before the Split had occurred, before everything had gone to _absolute shit_ , it had only been

Creativity,

Morality,

And Self Preservation,

And together, they had ruled the Mindscape.

Creativity, with his eyes full of magic and mischief, his royal robes glimmering like a sunset, his auburn hair with blond highlights perfectly imperfect, had been the first to form. If Janus could remember what Romulus (for that had been Creativity’s name) had told him correctly, Thomas must have been an infant when Creativity had popped into existence, cooing over the bright colors and shapes of the world around him and easing his Host’s slumber with wondrous dreams full of whimsy. 

Morality, with a smile that completely lit up the room, a disposition that could rival both Mother Teresa and Gandhi, and a heart as full as it was empty, was the second to form when Thomas was 4. Morality had often gushed back then (But really. Has he ever stopped singing Thomas’ praises?) about how wonderful Thomas was when he played with his friends on the playground, when Thomas helped his parents with breakfast by pouring his own cereal into a bowl, when Thomas broke a lamp and told his parents the truth instead of lying about it.

Janus can remember that last incident very well, for that was the day that he had appeared in the Mindscape for the first time. Back then, the “Mindpalace” hadn’t been created yet, since Logic was the one who deemed it necessary to live in an “acceptable living unit that is comparable to our Host’s current environment”. There had only been the Imagination and the dreaded Subconscious when Janus had arrived in the Mindscape, the deceptive side quickly being blinded from the brightness of the field he had been standing in after spending 4 years in the darkness of the Subconscious. Having a body all of a sudden was a weird experience and Janus had spent a good portion of his first day trying and failing to walk towards the giant castle that sat at the edge of the field, the palace’s grey stones reflecting the blazing sun that shone down from above.

He had eventually been rescued by Creativity, who had been following a deer trail not far from where Janus had been struggling (But, of course, he would _never_ admit that _now_. He had a reputation to uphold, after all). With a dazzling smile, Creativity had offered his hand figuratively (and literally) in friendship and took Janus to see the inside of what would eventually become the abandoned fortress in between the “Good” and “Evil” Creativity’s kingdoms, a place that was now so desolate that Janus would hardly believe that it was the same castle if he hadn’t seen it first hand. Creativity had made the castle positively glow with warmth as Janus entered the front gates, the deceptive side’s jaw dropping as he took in the sight of the diamond and ruby threaded carpeting, the wispy orange curtains that flowed serenely in the calm breeze that cascaded in from outside the window, the golden banisters and decorations that covered every inch of available space within the castle...

It had been a lot to take in all at once.

Eventually, with Creativity continuing to hold his hand for support and rambling on and on about how happy he was that there was, “Someone new, at last! Huzzah! Huzzah!”, Janus had found himself standing in the middle of an ornate throne room, his (two) brown eyes jumping to a golden throne completely adorned in rubies and emeralds with a beautiful orange topaz sitting on the peak. Inhaling sharply as he looked between Creativity, whose hand had finally left Janus’ so that he could giddily spin in a circle with his arms outstretched wide, and the gorgeous throne, Janus, a **wonderful** speaker even though he had just been formed, muttered quietly, “Is this your castle?”

“Yes!” Creativity had laughed in reply, his absurdly long cape almost tripping him as he stopped spinning in order to give Janus a cautious smile. “Do you like it?” he asked almost timidly, his hands clasped in front of him as if he were waiting for Janus’ approval. He was like a puppy begging for scraps, even without the wide eyes and quivering bottom lip. In that moment, Janus realized that Creativity was absolutely starving for recognition. For attention. For _anything_ that Janus was willing to give him.

Apparently, some things never change.

In that moment, Janus almost felt bad for Creativity. Janus, though at the time he couldn’t tell you why, sympathized with the creative side’s child-like behavior, silently hoping that Creativity wasn’t _always_ this hopelessly pathetic. Nowadays, he would tell you that he had sensed the weakness brewing within Creativity even before Creativity himself knew it existed. Privately, Janus wished he could have snapped Creativity out of his self doubting ways while he had still held sway over the _both_ of them.

To answer Creativity’s question, Janus had smiled, the same kind of smile you would give a child who kept asking for candy even after you’ve said no twenty times. Janus then took a breath and replied sweetly, “Yes. I **absolutely love** your castle. It is very well constructed and the decoration **aren** **’t** garish or overly dramatic at all!”

That had been the first time Janus had ever lied to another side, even if it hadn’t been a _complete_ lie.

It had also been in that moment that Janus realized what his purpose was, why he had been created, why he felt a jolt whenever he misinformed someone, why he could sense the perfectly hidden sadness that oozed off of the stones of Creativity’s throne. Janus swallowed carefully as he watched Creativity’s face ignite with joy, his happiness slamming into Janus like a tidal wave as he squealed with delight. “Thank you!” Creativity beamed as Janus’ smile waned, hoping against hope that Creativity couldn’t read the thoughts circling in his head, “I am quite pleased that you like it! I couldn’t really decide on a color scheme because I LOVE the color orange and red and green and white and black and pink an-”

Janus held up his hand and immediately Creativity shut up. 

A moment later, after Creativity’s eyes had widened in shock (or excitement. Janus still wasn’t sure which twin had been projecting through Romulus in that moment), the deceptive side lowered his hand slowly, watching as Creativity’s own hand fell to the side as well. A surge of… something had ripped through Janus, a contemplative expression on his face, as he listened to Creativity gasp before gushing, “Wow! Is that what you do? Make people move by themselves?” Creativity didn’t give Janus the time to form a suitable lie before he concluded excitedly, “That’s soo cool!”

“What’s so cool, Romy?”

A new voice (a voice Janus would grow to **loathe** over the next twenty years), entered the throne room, Janus quickly pivoting to see who it was as he filed away the name that this newcomer had just supplied for Creativity for later use. The boy, with wide, circular glasses that made his eyes look huge and freckles that covered his cheeks like constellations, stopped in his tracks once he noticed Janus’ presence, his mouth flying quickly to his mouth as Creativity grinned. “We have a new friend, padre!” Creativity exclaimed as Morality uncovered his mouth to reveal the happiest expression that Janus had ever seen. Janus averted his eyes once Morality screamed with delight.

Morality hurt to look at for too long. He still did. 

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” Morality was practically shaking as he rushed to Janus’ side and pulled him into a hug, his arms circling Janus’ lithe waist in a near deathlike grip. “Oh. My. Gosh!” Morality said again as he pulled away from Janus, his eyes seemingly scanning Janus’ face as the deceptive side kept it neutral, “I can’t believe there is another person here! I’m so excited!” Creativity, his smile rivaling Morality’s, stepped behind the moral trait and rested his head on Morality’s shoulder. “Okay, okay, soooo…” Morality continued as he clasped Janus’ hands in his own, “Introduction time!” He giggled before trying (and failing) to pull a serious face as he stated, “I’m Thomas’ Morality! I make sure that he does the right thing all the time!” He paused for a moment, looking as though he were forgetting something before finishing with a nod, “So he doesn’t get in trouble!”

Beside him, Creativity backed away from Morality before sweeping into a bow, his cape blowing behind him as he raised his head and said primly, “And I am our dear Thomathy’s Creativity! I protect him from nightmarish fiends at night and supply him with delightful daydreams during the day!” Standing straight, Creativity hopped forward and tapped Janus’ nose with his finger, a melodious laugh slipping from his lips as Janus scrunched up his face in disgust.

“Alright kiddo!” Morality’s voice had sounded like gravel as he squeezed the deceptive side’s hands affirmingly, “Tell us what your function is! What’re you doing in the Mindscape?” 

And Janus, for the life of him, had had no idea how to answer that question.

He couldn’t have just lied in the face of Thomas’ virtue; He hadn’t known the extent of Morality’s powers when they had first met and, consequently, hadn’t known that Morality couldn’t tell a lie from a truth even if his life were on the line. Even though he had just been created, Janus could already tell that Creativity and Morality were bubbly, charming, and _sweet_ … traits that Janus had absolutely no association to. He doubted that they would be so friendly with him if they discovered that he had _lied_ about his function in Thomas’ Mindscape. Not that they would believe him in the first place. Again, they were _nothing_ alike.

On the other hand, what was Janus supposed to do? Tell them that he was the literal embodiment of _deceit_ ? That he was here to prompt Thomas to lie through situations that could get him hurt? To lie to the people that he loved in order to keep them happy and out of his way if he so needed to? To lie to himself if something were to come up _years_ down the line that could alter his mental image of himself in a negative way? While these had and _still_ sounded like positive improvements to his Host’s self-care and protection in the long run, Morality, sweet, charming, _naive_ Morality, wouldn’t agree with Janus. It wasn’t his function to agree with Janus; It probably would be more concerning if he DID agree with Janus’ code of ethics. And even if Janus somehow managed to convince Morality that he wasn’t a threat to Thomas and was only trying to help, he would still have Creativity to deal with. 

It was two against one. Those odds weren’t in his favor.

Eventually, he spoke and, when he did, he kept his answer as truthful as he possibly could without sharing too much information.

“I’m Self Preservation. I keep our Host safe.”

It wasn’t a lie back then and it isn’t a lie now. Is that Janus’ primary function? Yes and no. Does he hate the way Creativity’s green eyes had lit up or how Morality’s hands had squeezed his with delight?

Yes and no.

In the beginning, when Thomas was young and naive and full of passion for the world around him in a way only children could be, that was all that Janus had needed to say. Morality and Creativity believed him. They _trusted_ him. Foolishly, they had trusted him.

And Janus, a small smirk creeping into the corners of his mouth as he pulled his hands from Morality’s, would hold onto that trust for as long as he could. It had been just them at first, after all. 

If he didn’t have Morality and Creativity, then he would have nothing. 

It really had been only the three of them back then --

Creativity.

Morality.

  
And **_Deceit_ **.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tis the beginning of the end MWAHAHA >:)

**Scars will always bleed,**

**Oh my heart is like an earthquake**

  
  
  


Janus could remember the day that Logic had formed  _ perfectly _ .

Sitting cross legged in the field that he had taken his first steps in, Creativity leaning against his side as he sketched the shadows that the sun threw over his castle (with his tongue sticking out) in a notebook while Morality braided together flower crowns with his head in Janus’s lap, the deceptive side had watched curiously as a burst of magic appeared near the lake on the opposite side of Creativity’s castle. He simply raised a subtle brow in that general direction before leaning against Creativity’s shoulder to watch him draw while running a hand through Morality’s curly, caramel colored hair.

He hadn’t told them immediately because  _ this _ was nice.

It felt… claustrophobic… but in a good way. It was almost like he were at a family dinner party (like that **delightfully** **patriotic** one that happened every year in November that Morality somehow thought was amazing) and he was surrounded by people (famILY) that wanted to be near him just for the sake of being near him. That was how he felt most of the time with Creativity and Morality in those early years; They _wanted_ to be near him and listen to what he had to say and listen to his input when it came to helping Thomas grow up with a solid head on his shoulders.

Most of his ideas back then had been accepted without question.

Now the others knew better than to take anything Janus said at face value (even if his intentions were pure, the fucking hypocrites). 

So pardon him if he just wanted to bask in the moment, the warm heat of the sun and of the others soaking into his (unmarred) skin and leaving him feeling lightheaded in ways that Janus hadn’t been able to replicate in years. Ignoring a problem would only come back to bite him in the future, but that could be tomorrow’s issue. Creativity would probably figure out something was off soon enough anyway; The Imagination WAS his domain after all… So… Janus really didn’t see why  _ he  _ had to say anything at all. That magical burst  **was** dangerous, otherwise Creativity would already be on his feet, battle axe drawn as he ran howling into battle. 

Everything was  _ fine _ .

“What are you drawing?” Janus whispered over Creativity’s shoulder, Morality shifting slightly in Janus’ lap as Creativity glanced at the deceptive side with a soft smile and finished coloring in whatever he had drawn on the page. 

Hesitating for only a moment, the creative trait gently handed his sketchpad to Janus, the deceptive side lowering it down to Morality’s level so that they could look at it together. Put shortly, Janus was  **unimpressed** by Creativity’s drawing, his eyes roaming across the hastily drawn image as he felt Morality tense below him. Janus had to hide a snort as he looked at the dragon precariously gripping onto one of the many silver towers that connected to the castle, the beast’s scales dripping with jewels and it’s teeth caked in blood. Of course Morality  **loved** the picture; Anything other than sunshine and rainbows made Morality wrinkle his nose and his mouth turn downwards in a frown.

“Well?” Creativity asked softly, a hand pushing his hair out of his eyes as he awaited Janus’ and Morality’s criticism. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes betrayed just how anxious he truly was.

Clearing his throat, Morality sniffed once, taking the notepad out of Janus’ hands as he slowly sat up, his mouth twisting in a way that made it look like he had just smelled something foul. He continued to stare at the picture for several minutes, Janus putting more of his weight into Creativity’s side and shifting his legs out of a crossed position as he awaited Morality’s  **praise** . “The dragon is kinda scary,” Morality whispered to himself, his hands placing the pad onto the grass in front of him as he stared at the picture like it had personally offended him (which it  _ may have _ , considering how strict Morality would become in the upcoming years). 

Creativity, obviously sensing Morality’s discomfort, scooted forward on his butt (and dragged Janus along with him, the traitor) and placed a hand on Morality’s shoulder, startling the moral trait out of whatever trance the picture had placed him under. “I tried to draw a realistic version of the castle,” Creativity explained, his voice strained as he tried to shift his drawing away from Morality. The moral side clasped Creativity’s hand before he could reach the picture, looking at him with those wide,  _ sad _ eyes that he had been learning to perfect in order to get his way  _ even  _ at 5 years old. “I got bored halfway through, so I, uh, drew a dragon as well,” Creativity finished weakly, Janus shifting backwards slightly in order to hide the frown growing on his face at Morality’s intake of breath.

And the others call  _ him  _ dramatic.

“Romy,” Morality began, his face deceptively open as he carefully covered the dragon with his free hand, “That was… a little too mean, okay?” Even before the Split, Janus  **hadn’t** known what Morality’s motives were. Thomas meant everything to Morality; Hell, Thomas was practically Morality’s  _ child _ . And, just like with any parent, Morality refused to acknowledge the inherently selfish or dark thoughts that Thomas would think from time to time just on account of him being  _ human _ . 

Morality  _ had _ always thought that Thomas could do better, be the bigger man, never do anything wrong in his life if he simply  _ tried. _

Janus, ever the  **optimist** , had never believed Mortality’s stupid allusions.

So it was, of course, no surprise that whenever these thoughts and impulses would appear in the Mindscape, either through one of the “Sides” or through the environment, Morality would be quick to get rid of it. Sometimes Morality would get rid of things without even meaning to do so.

That had been one of the many reasons why the Split had happened in the first place.

Gently removing his hand from Morality’s, certainly not meeting his gaze, Creativity deftly slid the book towards him, looking at the page with an expression that Janus couldn’t have placed if he tried. “It’s only a dragon,” Creativity eventually muttered, his gaze hardening just slightly as he ran his hand over the bloody mouth of the beast, “What’s so bad about a dragon?”

“I think it may be the blood,” Janus replied calmly, the half truth (he had become very good at telling those during his early years) sliding primly off his tongue as he placed his hand on Creativity’s back in a subtle form of solidarity. A huff of annoyance could be heard coming from Creativity as he tore the page out of the sketchbook, Morality flinching slightly at the violent movement. “I do like the dragon, however,” Janus continued a tad quieter, his hand moving from Creativity’s back in order to lightly run his hand over the iridescent scales and glittering jewels adorning the dragon’s belly, “It’s quite majestic.”

Morality opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it after catching Janus’ icy stare. 

It was then that Janus had decided to inform Creativity of the magical burst he had seen earlier, if only to lighten the oppressive atmosphere that had now befallen the field that left him sitting uncomfortably on the ground. He had watched with intrigue as Creativity’s eyes, shining either from tears or fury, shifted to the spot behind his castle and immediately ignited, the creative side jumping to his feet (and stomping his creation into the ground in his excitement) before shouting a warning as he disappeared in a explosion of orange sparks. Morality held out his hand and caught one of the orange embers in his hand, cupping his hands together and pressing them to his chest as a warcry could be heard in the distance.

All had been silent between Janus and Morality once Creativity disappeared, Morality closing his eyes and continuing to hold his hands to his chest in quiet meditation as Janus pretended to feel empathy for the moral trait by shifting to sit beside him. A breeze drifted lazily across the field, ruffling Morality’s hair and stirring him from his thoughts. What was spoken next was so quiet that Janus almost didn’t catch it through his own churning thoughts (his own accusations, his own  _ anger _ ).

Almost.

“Do you think I’m being too strict with Romulus, Sunflower?”

No matter how much Janus disagreed with Morality, no matter how much he  _ knew _ he was supposed to hate him for controlling the others, for controlling Thomas’ thoughts, for controlling  _ himself _ … The truth, sometimes, was just too hard to say. And… Janus hadn’t  _ wanted to hurt _ Morality back then. 

In Morality’s eyes, Janus was Self-Preservation and protecting the ones you care about from a truth they wouldn’t be able to understand was what he did… That was who he was. It was  _ still _ who he was (partially, but still).

In the end, that answer had been relatively simple.

“ **No. I think you are doing a fine job of keeping Thomas safe. He’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for him.** ”

The shy smile that he had received from Morality had nearly outweighed the sinking feeling that had engulfed the pit of his stomach.

It hadn’t taken Creativity very long to locate Logic, the creative side reappearing in his familiar flamboyant way just a few minutes after he had disappeared (which was useful, since Janus had been feeling like the once peaceful silence that stretched between him and Morality was beginning to slowly and tortuously suffocate him). Creativity, a smile plastered across his bloodied lips, was soaking wet, his black boots making squelching noises with every movement and his usually perfect hair matting unpleasantly against his forehead. It had been obvious to Janus, who had internally rolled his eyes upon seeing the state of the creative side, that Creativity had somehow found himself in the lake while he was searching for Logic.

Since that made  **complete sense** .

“I found someone,” Creativity had stated proudly, his chest puffing out confidently as a lanky figure peered around Creativity’s broad shoulder. Said lanky figure bore a look that read either extreme boredom or extreme annoyance, a pair of black glasses squaring his face and making him appear much older than he actually was. It could’ve also been the tie that had immediately given Janus the sense that Logic was not to be trifled with, but who was Janus to say. He had never been good at interpreting the logical side anyway.

Morality carefully stood up from his seat, brushed his hands on the front of his khakis, and cheerfully said with a forced grin, “Well hiya there, kiddo! What were ya doin’ all the way over there by yourself? Sick of us already?” Janus could hear the lies creeping behind Morality’s false cheer. By Thomas, Morality was  _ so stupid. _

“I haven’t even met any of you yet,” Logic had replied, Creativity quickly moving out of the way with a quiet laugh in order to let Logic speak, “So how could I be sick of you if you and I have never conversed until this moment? That doesn’t make any sense.” He blinked before making a leather bound book appear out of thin air, Creativity’s eyes boggling and his mouth dropping open as he watched Logic write something down with a mutter under his breath. Creativity, up until that point, had been the only side that could create things within the Imagination. Janus tried not to look impressed as he stood up. 

“Regardless of your confusing introduction, I believe introductions are in order. I am Thomas’ Logic and I am going to help guide Thomas through his schooling in order to help him to expand his knowledge of the world around him.” With a nod and an adjustment to his tie, Logic turned his gaze away from his book and back to Morality, Creativity continuing to open and close his mouth like a fish while Janus simply tried to remain as nonchalant as possible. He had never heard someone speak so bluntly before.

Logic was obviously an intellectual and that could be quite beneficial or quite dangerous depending on how much he  _ actually  _ knew. Again, those early days had been quite difficult for the deceptive side; He never knew how much he could say without giving away what his primary function was. A wave of discomfort washed over Janus and he slunk backwards a step, shifting closer to Creativity as Morality happily informed Logic of his function and then immediately tackled him into a bear hug. Logic hadn’t been impressed with Morality’s displays of affection from day one, it seemed.

“And you?”

“Hm?” Creativity responded, Janus watching as his eyes zipped up from the dirtied sketch he had drawn earlier in the day to Logic’s pensive expression, “Oh! Why, I’m Thomas’ Creativity! I help make all of his dreams come true!”

Logic’s face twitched as he jotted something down in his book, Creativity taking his cue and reaching down to grab his sketch and his notebook before he forgot them. He didn’t seem to mind that the papers were being drenched in the water that was leaking off of his orange coat. “Do you help Thomas achieve those dreams effectively and efficiently?” Logic questioned after a moment, his hazel eyes flicking to Creativity as the creative side stopped fiddling with his drawing and gave him a puzzled look.

“Of course?” Creativity eventually replied, his tone sounding significantly less confident then it had mere moments before. The question in his voice irked Janus to no end.

“And where is the evidence of this?”

The Imagination seemed to groan under the weight of Logic’s questioning.

And Creativity hadn’t answered right away, his head snapping from Logic directly to Morality as he silently pleaded for the moral side to tell Logic what he had done thus far in Thomas’ life, what he had accomplished during the five years that he had been thriving in the Imagination, to prove that he hadn’t just been here doing  _ nothing _ .

Of course, Creativity had been much more subtle than that, only his shaking hands giving away his fear of failure. 

But Janus had known. 

He had always known about Creativity’s weaknesses.

Unlike Logic, Creativity was easy to read.

Running a hand along the back of his neck, Morality continued to force a smile as he replied, “He created all of this, right? Heck, this is probably the most impressive thing I’ve seen in my entire life! If this isn’t evidence enough for you, I don’t know what is!” He gestured around him for good measure, as though he were succeeding in nailing home his point with a few wild hand gestures and an awful smile.

Humming noncommittally under his breath, Logic closed his book with a slam and turned to look upon the castle behind him, watching the structure for several moments as the sun painted purples, pinks, oranges, and golds across the sky. “It is impressive,” Logic stated after a moment, a tension leaving Creativity’s shoulders that was almost imperceptible. Crossing his arms tightly in front of him, Logic turned back to the group, the sun’s reflection glinting sharply from the lens of his glasses. “But it’s not practical. Thomas is never going to be able to live in a castle nor is he ever going to have to fight a giant sea monster in order to secure any of his basic needs.” Creativity opened his mouth to most likely protest, his eyebrows furrowing in an almost comedic fashion, but Logic briskly cut him off, “That being said, I propose we create something more realistic in this Imagination of yours. Let’s say… a house, for instance. Thomas will need to know how to live in a  _ house  _ when he gets older, so that’s where we should begin making alterations.” He paused. “Do you understand, Creativity? It’s in Thomas’ best interest that you cooperate.”

And with those words, Logic had garnered the support and friendship of Morality, the moral side slowly nodding in agreement as he began talking about what type of house Thomas should have when he’s older (“It should be blue, Logic! A pretty, bright blue that matches the sky!”). 

But Logic hadn’t won over Janus that day and he certainly didn’t make an ally with Creativity, who was now engaging the ground in a staring contest as he mumbled his frustrations under his breath and kicked at a stone that lay in front of him.

Something akin to pity had surged in Janus’ chest as he stepped closer to Creativity, his hand reaching out to pull on the thoroughly ruined dragon sketch and examine it again. Creativity’s piercing gaze burned Janus, but he hadn’t cared in the moment. “You know,” he began ever so softly, his hand yanking the sketch from Creativity’s hand as he tilted his head to the side for added effect, “I think this is better than any old house that Logic could ever dream of creating. You truly are amazing at what you do, Romulus.”

Even the use of his full name and the genuine hints of compassion and sincerity that Janus used in his statement couldn’t keep the notes of hurt and sadness from the creative side’s voice as Creativity laughed shallowly and muttered, “Yeah right,” before he evaporated into a sudden gale of wind with nothing more than a small spark of orange.

Clutching the picture tightly in his fist as he made a face of annoyance (It wasn’t often the deceptive side was so open with his praise, unlike Morality), Janus only half listened to Logic and Morality as he sat back down on the grass and wished that the sun would come back so that he could bask in it’s warmth just a moment longer.

  
It had been close to midnight before Logic and Morality had finally noticed that Creativity was nowhere to be found and, frankly, Janus was  **quite surprised** .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter made up for the long wait between posts! This story is probably going to be slow to upload as my inspiration tends to ebb and flow (and I often get distracted by different projects), but I am going to try my damnedest to finish this monster of a story! I already have like four of the chapters written, so we're gettin' there slowly but surely! 
> 
> ALSO this is probably my favorite chapter that I wrote so far (because the opening paragraphs are so damn soft). Don't get used to that lol. It's all downhill from here. >:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack >:)
> 
> Hope y'all are ready for some angst! (And for some flufff; I'm not a TOTAL monster).

**Always wondering why**

**Side-to-side, ups and downs**

  
  
  


The Mindpalace hadn’t always been divided between good and evil. 

They had all shared one living space with each other like one, big, **happy** famILY at first, each side choosing their own room on the upper floor and adding their own personal touches whenever the mood struck them.

Creativity, whose room had a glittering chandelier dripping with sapphires hanging from a high ceiling painted with silver, whose room could make any dream or idea come to life in the blink of an eye with a wish and a snap of your fingers, whose room ignited every morning and afternoon as the sun kissed the earth and hurled it’s fire through the sun doors that opened onto a balcony leading directly into the Imagination.

Morality, with a room completely overflowed with all the **useless** trinkets that Thomas had cherished and forgotten about over the years, with a room that was warm and nostalgic and seemed to always smell of freshly baked cookies no matter what, with a room that was painted to match the color of the sky on a perfect summer’s day (including tiny puffballs that were supposed to look like clouds, but looked more like messy blobs). With a room that makes Janus’ skin crawl once he spends more than ten minutes within the cheerfully unrealistic bedroom.

Logic, whose room was more of a workplace than anything else, whose room had beautiful white constellations painted perfectly across the ceiling that seemingly glowed indigo and purple whenever he shut the lights off, whose room made concentration on concrete concepts much easier and made creating and implementing fanciful daydreams all the more difficult. The lock on Logic’s brass doorknob had also made it quite clear to Janus that he did not like to be disturbed (especially when he was focusing on Thomas’ schoolwork, as Creativity had figured out the hard way).

Fear, with a room that had been positively covered in spiders and cobwebs (Morality had taken one look and refused to come out of his room for two days, even when prompted with sweets), with a room that had had strands of dark fabric hanging down from the ceiling in order to curtain the fearful side from whatever threat was about to come through his door, with a room that had intensified Janus’ own fears to the point where he couldn’t have stopped shaking or hyperventilating for nearly a month. He had been very careful to only speak in truths with the others after that particular visit.

As for himself, Janus had **hated** his old room from the moment he laid eyes on it, **repulsion** and **disgust** rippling through his veins as strong vines looped gracefully up his golden bedposts and a cool breeze opened the sun doors that led to a beautiful indoor greenhouse positively riddled with sunflowers. The air had been humid and heavy, replicating the environment of the jungles that Janus had been _obsessed_ with after Thomas learned about them in school, and a gorgeous two-headed snake had laid pensively in the artificial sunlight of the greenhouse, only moving it’s heads to look at Janus lazily with a flick of it’s tongues. Janus certainly **didn’t** cry when he ran his hand over the black and golden scales of the snake and certainly **didn’t** hug Creativity as tightly as he could the next time he saw the creative side.

Everyone had the same amount of space within the Mindpalace by the time that Thomas turned 7 years old, Logic’s guidance and Creativity’s imaginative abilities forming a home that had struck a balance between Logic’s realistic vision and Creativity’s fanciful dreams. Everyone was pleased with the Mindpalace, even Fear, who had formed right as the palace was being completed and immediately tried to run away into the Dark Forest when Morality started screaming in excitement. 

Another fifteen minutes later and Morality had managed to convince Fear to, “At least, come check out your room, kiddo! I’m sure that Creativity made something reeeal special for ya! Let’s go see!”. If Janus remembered correctly, Fear had been the first side to go into the Mindpalace, his onyx eyes blown wide and his bottom lip quivering as he peered anxiously around the threshold.

Fear had then zipped into the Mindpalace so fast that Janus had to choke back a ( **dignified** ) yelp of surprise, the fearful side quickly running into his room and slamming the door shut behind him with a bang. He didn’t reemerge until the following morning, bags hanging heavily under his eyes as he graveled out while playing with the hem of his black t-shirt, “Smelled waffles. How many you got?” 

Janus tried not to scoff as he finished drinking his orange juice.

So yes.

The Mindpalace was, with lack of a better word, _pure perfection_ at first.

The food tasted better when it was being cooked in an actual kitchen versus when it was cooked around an open fire. Plus, Creativity always had to go on a hunt in order to catch their dinner while they had stayed in the Imagination and, while Janus didn’t mind watching Creativity remove the organs of whatever poor animal he had viciously murdered, he knew for a fact that Logic and Morality were quite happy with the fact that they could now summon pre-prepared foods in the kitchen. 

The beds were cozier than those in Creativity’s castle, especially since Janus had a room guest that would curl around his arm every night and squeeze gently until the deceptive side had fallen asleep.

Nobody had been forced to live in the basement of the Mindpalace ( _yet_ ).

And, as with most families, the company was… acceptable. Janus didn’t _hate_ Logic’s strict sleep schedule that he enforced _even on the weekends_ because, “Thomas needs to maintain his R.E.M cycle in order to be productive in the morning.” Janus had somewhat enjoyed listening to Creativity serenade the cardinals and ravens that followed them when they went for walks through the Imagination. He even tolerated the baking activities that he would engage in with a half smile on his face whenever Morality spilled flour everywhere or when Morality would tell a stupid joke that he had heard their mother tell Thomas.

But the best part, the absolute best part of the Mindpalace during the early days of it’s conception...

**Everyone had been equal back then.**

Well…

Sometimes, Creativity didn’t understand just how incredibly strong he was, so when he had slammed the door to his room and stomped his way into the Imagination, the entire Mindpalace had shivered in response. The cups sitting on the coffee table in front of Janus danced and nearly spilled everywhere, Fear managing to jump forward in his seat and prevent any juice from getting splashed onto the carpet just in time. Logic glanced up from the book he was reading to study the table curiously, Fear slowly returning to his previous position on the couch as his chest rose and fell rapidly. “ _What was that_?” Fear whispered after a moment, Janus crossing one leg over the other as he turned his attention from the cartoons playing on the tv and locked eyes with Fear.

Truthfully, Janus didn’t know, but there was no way he was going to tell Fear that. That would only cause him to panic even more then he _obviously_ already was. At the same time… Fear had always been scarily good at catching Janus in his lies and, drawing from past experiences, lying wouldn’t exactly help calm Fear down either.

Fear has _never_ been fooled by Deceit. 

Even little, baby white lies or lies dosed in so much sugar that Janus feels like he might get a cavity just by saying them.

So, given his **multitude** of options, Janus had simply shrugged his shoulders and muttered as he turned back to the television, “It was probably **nothing**.”

“That didn’t sound like nothing,” Fear countered immediately, his gaze now fixed on the staircase that led up to the second floor, “That sounded like a _something_. A really, really BIG something.” He paused, wringing his pale hands together, before he whispered all in one breath, “Do you think one of Creativity’s creations has gotten out of the Imagination again?” 

“Impossible,” Logic interjected before Janus could answer properly, Janus shooting the logical side an annoyed look before huffing irritably and leaning his head against his fist. Shifting forward in his seat, Logic placed his thick book on the glass coffee table and continued his sentence in a slow, calming tone of voice, “Creativity has wards put in place to prevent any creatures from getting into the Mindpalace. Nothing is going to get in. We are safe.” 

Though Logic’s words seemed to calm Fear enough to stop his hyperventilating, Janus still felt the raw panic that was rippling through Fear’s body, the fearful side seeming to shrink into the couch cushions as his eyes bounced between the staircase and the tv screen. Sighing, Janus reached for the controller and muted the show they had been watching, Logic looking away from the cover of his giant book and Fear giving Janus a look that asked a million and one questions at once. “Fear,” he began firmly, his posture straightening as he placed both his feet on the floor and tried to mimic Logic’s relaxed tone of voice to **great** success, “I need you to calm down, okay? It won’t be healthy for Thomas if you continue to stress for no reason.  


A shrill laugh soared from Fear’s throat as he pushed himself into the corner of the couch (and farther away from Janus) and snapped hoarsely as he wrapped his arms around his legs, “I hate to break it to you, Bee Boy, but that’s basically my primary function. I stress for no reason. I’m sorry, but that’s just what I do!”

As Fear raised his voice, Logic slowly rose from his chair, careful not to make too many sudden movements and to stay within Fear’s line of sight. Janus watched peevishly as Logic sat down on the floor in front of Fear, his hands clasped in his lap as he watched Fear slowly work himself up again with a worried expression. It had been subtle, but Janus could see the way that his forehead had scrunched up in frustration. 

The thought of kicking Logic away from Fear briefly crossed Janus’ mind, but he quickly pushed it away.

“Fear, listen to me.”

Janus’ sharp tone sliced through Fear’s mumblings, the fearful side’s teeth beginning to worry his bottom lip as he released his legs and looked up from the couch cushions.

“I want you to breathe in very slowly for 4 seconds, okay?”

When Fear had opened his mouth to most likely snap again, Janus simply silenced him with a look, his patience beginning to run thin and the urge to just shout in frustration becoming all the more tempting. 

“Let’s do it together, Fear. Come on; Breathe in slowly for 4 seconds.”

Janus, keeping his instructions quiet but firm, led Fear through the breathing exercise, the fearful side’s chest slowly syncing with Janus’ as Logic watched silently from the floor.

“In for 4. Hold for 7. Out for 8.

In for 4. Hold for 7. Out for 8.

In for 4. Hold for 7. Out for 8.”

Eventually, Fear had begun muttering the words under his breath as well, crawling out of the corner of the couch until he was in the same spot he had been when he had heard the slam upstairs. Brushing his bangs out of his eyes with a swipe of his hand, Fear carefully watched the colorful animations in front of him before saying quietly, his knee continuing to bounce, “I feel a little better now.”

The silent, “Thank you,” that remained entrapped within Fear’s lips nearly made Janus blush before a surge of pride quickly consumed his embarrassment. 

“I will admit,” Logic spoke a moment later, Janus watching as he rose fluidly to his feet before sinking down onto the couch next to Fear. A happy spark popped into Fear’s eyes as he shifted a tiny bit closer to Logic, pressing his now dormant knees against Logic’s. The logical side tilted his head with a small smile, his shoulder pressed against Fear’s, before continuing quietly, “That was quite impressive, Preservation. Well done.”

Janus had tried not to look too smug, he **really** tried.

It had been a few hours after Creativity’s temper tantrum and Fear’s incident, perhaps close to 10 o’clock at night, when Morality finally made an appearance, Janus immediately sensing Morality’s discomfort by observing the way that he practically dragged himself down the stairs. Being the only one awake, with Logic and Fear leaning against each other as they dozed peacefully (they always _were_ quite **cute** together, weren’t they?), Janus turned his head slightly, a cup of cranberry juice clutched in between both his hands, and simply raised an unimpressed brow at Morality’s arrival.

Morality had claimed that he would be able to spend the entire day watching cartoons, finally caving in after Janus had pestered him tirelessly for a week over, “How you spend _far_ too much time doing chores, Morality. By Thomas, give yourself a break. **You deserve it**.”

Anyone who says that Janus was the only one hiding things before the Split would be just as much of a liar as he was.

Morality had been prime proof of this.

And of course, there had been Creativity…

“He’s mad at me,” Morality had muttered sadly, reaching the landing of the stairs just as Janus took a delicate sip of his juice and pretended that he was a wealthy business woman from the 1920’s, “He doesn’t like it when I tell him that his creations are bad.”

Morality always had been _such_ a moron.

“Understandably so,” Janus had replied simply, the drink hiding the front of his mouth doing nothing to mince the frustration riddled within his tone, “I would be angry too if you made fun of anything I tried to create.”

The genuine shock on Morality’s face as he sputtered, “I would _never_ make fun of something Romulus created!” had Janus snickering against the cool glass of his cup. “I just,” Morality started before deflating entirely, his sock clad feet dragging across the carpet in a pathetic attempt to appear sorry for his actions, “I just… don’t see the creative merit in a, uh,” he paused before shuddering uncomfortably, “A giant three headed rooster that removes the spines of it’s victims before, and I quote, ‘Slurping up the delicious insides of it’s prey like a straw in a smoothie.’” Pausing in front of Janus before carefully sitting down on the couch next to him, Morality placed his head in his hands as he continued miserably, “That isn’t something Thomas should be thinking about, Sunny! He’s only _7_! He should be,” Morality looked up briefly to gesture towards the tv, “He should be thinking of things like that! Like happiness and sunshine and rainbows and-and not death!”

When Morality had begun to cry, Janus had watched his shuddering shoulders and sniffled gasps while he drained the remainder of his drink, trying to think of a suitable response that wouldn’t result in more crying.

Morality had been _wrong_ that day, but, at the same time, Janus had seen where Creativity had been wrong too. Was it truly any of his business to get involved in an issue that he had no part of?

_No_.

So why would he say anything, hm? Why create an even larger rift between Creativity and Morality when they were doing that by themselves? They’ll figure it out eventually; They always did. The arguments never last longer than a few days and then everything returns to as normal as normal can be. 

**It’ll be fine**.

(And, of course, that small traitorous part of himself that wanted to return to the field, with Creativity drawing by his side and Morality humming happily in his lap, had still existed back then. Why would he say something that could possibly push apart that mental image, that _perfect picture_ of his _perfect famILY_ , even more than it already has? Selfish, selfish, selfish.)

So, instead of saying anything at all, Janus had placed his glass gently on the floor before pulling Morality to his chest, letting the moral side sob into his yellow button up and grip his shirt like he was going to be pulled away at any moment. 

In that moment, Janus had believed that holding Morality was the correct course of action. But perhaps, deep, deep down, he had known all the time that something had changed between him and Morality and Creativity and that nothing could ever be the same again. Maybe he had known that he really was doing the **right thing** as he squeezed Morality closer.

But he had he cared what the consequences of his actions were?

No.

  
He **had** been created to take care of the others first and foremost, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Virgil decides to make an appearance after I tried to write him into the story five times. This emo bastard will be the death of me, I swear lol.  
> Mmmmm, I need to write more Analogical fluff. It's so darn cute! :)
> 
> We be gettin' through this darn story slowly but surely! I dunno how much more of this darn story I can write before inspiration gives out, but I'm pushin' as hard as I can to finish this!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
